The Yearning

by Tina Donahue

  Jasmine exchanged a look with the other women. She spoke to him. “You said you had errands to run this morning, not appointments.” She stepped closer. “At the club you said you didn’t have anything planned for the next couple of days or nights.”

  He didn’t. Not that she had to know. His voice cut through the room. “I lied.”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re lying now. I can hear it in your voice. I see it on your face.”

  His gut twisted. “Jasmine, listen to me.”

  The one with the platinum hair looked at her with shock and anger. “You told him your real name?”

  Mike’s worry ratcheted up a notch. What would they do if they thought that compromised their plan? He spoke to Jasmine. “You don’t want to go through with whatever you intended. Stop this now and we’ll forget it ever happened.”

  “Not a chance,” the one with the platinum hair said.

  Jasmine grabbed her arm, trying to turn her around. “Lily, please.”

  “No.” She argued, “You can’t let him go now. I won’t let you. Violet and Ben won’t let you.”

  Mike raised his voice so they’d hear him above the roaring thunder. “Why not?”

  The one with the light brown hair, presumably Violet, cried, “Can’t you see that Jas is dying!”

  He stared, not expecting or understanding what she’d said. His head swung to Jasmine, the smudges beneath her eyes. She seemed markedly tired, but dying? How? And why would it have anything to do with him? “From what?”

  Ben snapped, “What do you care?”

  Ignoring him, Mike spoke to Jasmine. “What’s wrong with you? If you’re ill, why aren’t you in a hospital?”

  “She’s not ill, she’s dying.” The icy remark came from Lily. She strode to the bed, close enough for him to see she had light brown or hazel eyes, far enough away to stay out of his reach. “What Desiree did to her can’t be cured by any doctor.”

  Again, that name. “Who’s Desiree?” he asked Jasmine.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle. It didn’t stop her shiver. “A Wanderer. A witch.”

  He could see she believed it. So did the others. Even so, he asked, “You mean in the literal sense?”

  Ben made a sound between a derisive laugh and a snort of disgust. “It’s obvious he doesn’t believe you, Jas. Quit wasting your energy trying to explain. You,” he said to Mike, “keep it zipped, got it?”

  “Ben, please.” She put out her hand to stop him from saying anything further. “Yes, I mean it in the literal sense.” Her voice shuddered from fatigue or a horror she couldn’t quite explain. “She’s one of the Wanderers.”

  Mike shook his head, edginess creeping up his spine. “I don’t understand. Who or what are they?”

  Violet mumbled, “You wouldn’t believe it if we told you.”

  “He doesn’t have to believe it,” Lily countered. “That’s not why Jas brought him here.”

  “So why did you?” he asked Jasmine. “And why choose me instead of one of the other men at the club?”

  Shame passed over her face. Her lower lip quivered. “What I told you in the alley at the Blue Bliss was true. I wasn’t lying.”

  She expected him to still swallow her story about finding him ultra-attractive and the perfect gentleman? Yeah, right. She’d had to have been lying.

  He looked for it in her eyes and saw anguish so deep it startled him.

  She pleaded, “Mike, I wasn’t lying then. I swear to you. If you can’t believe anything else, please believe that.”

  He didn’t know what to think. Either she had to be the world’s greatest actress or in a shitload of trouble he couldn’t begin to comprehend. “Why am I here?”

  Lily snapped, “What difference does it make? She didn’t have a choice.”

  “About what?”

  “Lil, please,” Jasmine said, her voice barely audible. “He deserves an explanation. He needs to know what this is about.” She looked at Violet. “Please get my notes and the photos.”

  The younger woman left the room and bolted down the hall.

  Chapter Seven

  Jasmine noted how Ben took charge immediately, the young lion trying to oust the virile male who ruled.

  “Move your legs to the left,” he ordered Mike, gesturing with the gun as he would with his hand. “Jas needs to sit down.”

  “I’m fine.” Jasmine took another halting breath and turned toward Ben so Mike couldn’t hear her. “Give me the gun.”

  “I can’t do that.” He held it out of her reach, nearly poking Lily with the barrel. Lightning streaked across the sky, fainter now. Several seconds passed before thunder followed. “You’ll let him go.”

  “And you’ll hurt him, me, Lil, or yourself if you keep swinging it. It’s not a toy, Ben. Put it down, away, I don’t care. Just get rid of it.”

  “I’ll be careful. Promise.” He touched her cheek. Rain and wind buffeted the roof. “Go on and sit down, please. Help her,” he ordered Lily.

  She leveled her gaze on him. “Knock it off, Ben. You’re here to help Jas, not prove how macho you are.”

  The corners of his mouth turned down in indignation and embarrassment. “I just thought you should help.”

  “I can get there myself,” Jasmine said. Reluctantly, she turned to Mike, expecting to see more fury or disgust. He observed her and Ben with a dispassionate expression. She sensed he was trying to figure out their relationship or his next move. Worried, she sat at the footboard, resting her head on her arm.

  He drew his legs up, away.

  Heart aching, she pressed her fingers to her forehead, struggling not to cry. As she’d feared, he couldn’t bear to be near her now. Who could blame him?

  “Are you feeling ill?” he asked.

  Lily answered. “She’s exhausted.”

  “Why haven’t you been sleeping?” he asked Jasmine.

  “She can’t,” Lily insisted.

  “Let her answer,” he ordered the girl. “Jasmine, tell me—why can’t you rest?”

  The unexpected worry in his voice shamed her further. He should be yelling, calling her a damned liar, threatening to bring the wrath of the federal government down on all of them. It would have been easier for her to accept his rage than his kindness. “It won’t let me.”

  “What won’t?”

  Lust. It roiled through her blood, insistent and grinding. “The yearning.”

  “What’s that?”

  Ben’s feet smacked the floor with his quick approach. “Leave her alone.”

  Jasmine dropped her hand.

  “Fine,” Mike said in an unshaken voice. “You have the Glock. I’ll do exactly what you want.”

  “You better or you’ll regret it.”

  She straightened and hollered at Ben, “Stop it! Lower the gun and get away from him!”

  He didn’t move. “Now!” she warned.

  Lily fisted her fingers in Ben’s tee and pulled him toward the bath. “Okay, okay,” he said, shaking her off and pointing the gun’s barrel at Lily’s feet. “I’m not near him, all right? I’ll stay here, but I am not leaving.”

  Violet ran into the room, a stack of photos and Jasmine’s laptop in her hands. Her head swiveled from one to the other. She huffed out her words. “What’s wrong now? What happened?”

  Lily muttered, “Ben had a testosterone attack.”

  “Violet.” Jasmine paused to swallow. She inclined her head toward Mike. “Give him the pictures and bring up what I found on the Wanderers.”

  From the corner of his eye, Mike watched Ben lift the pistol’s barrel. The muzzle stayed trained on him as Violet got close enough to drop the pictures near his knee. She opened the laptop, hit numerous keys, and put the computer near his cuffed hand. With the items delivered, she backed away quickly.

  “Ben,” Jasmine said.

  Like a good boy who didn’t want to piss her off, he lowered the barrel. It pointed at the bed frame. Mike knew if Ben fired now, the round could ricoche
t and hit him or one of the women.

  “Lil, Violet,” Jasmine said next. “I want you to leave.”

  They shared a quick look and shook their heads.

  Jasmine’s eyes closed. She remained so still, not even seeming to breathe, Mike wasn’t certain if she’d fallen asleep or passed out. He expected her to slump over. She did not. Her lids opened slowly. He stared. In the bleak gray light, he saw desire, hunger, lust flaring in her blue-green eyes.

  She whispered to the women. “It’s building again. I don’t want either of you to see.”

  “Go on,” Ben said to them in a gentle voice. “I’ll stay and make sure she’s safe.”

  “She’s our sister,” Lily countered.

  “Then do as I ask,” Jasmine snapped. Thunder rumbled rather than roared, its force subdued by distance. “Ben, lock the door when they leave.”

  Violet pleaded, “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

  “I won’t.” He ushered them into the hall, closed the door on their scared faces and turned the lock.

  The sound seemed final. Mike regarded Jasmine. Her face and body bristled with what went on inside. She fought it, her jaw clenching. His heart rate climbed at the nightmare he was witnessing, his foreboding focused fully on her now. To distract her and possibly lessen her misery, he said, “Tell me about Desiree.”

  She gestured to the pictures and laptop with a shaky hand. Her voice seethed with frustration. “She’s beautiful and insane.”

  He grabbed the color printouts. Jasmine had enlarged Desiree’s image in the photos, some candid and some posed, taken at a mobile home park and at a variety of storefront businesses. The grainy quality didn’t compromise her impact. She had an unholy beauty that didn’t look real. Mike could recall only two other women with the same perfection: Liv Tyler and Angelina Jolie. Hollywood stars with makeup people, hairdressers, professional lighting and award-winning photographers.

  Desiree didn’t need any of it. Her wheat-colored hair, caramel-colored skin, and green eyes—so pale they looked see-through—would have generated envy in a starlet or an angel. Her expression, though. Mike saw obsession, anger. Jasmine’s earlier comment returned. “She blamed me. I tried to fight it and stop, but…”

  He asked, “How did you meet her?”

  “I didn’t. I met the man she wanted.”

  His face lifted at the slight change in her voice, its dull, absorbed quality. She’d stopped fisting her fingers. They ran down her robe, opening it so he could glimpse her nudity. “What man is that?”

  Her fingers slowed. “Connor.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “Why?” Ben asked.

  Mike wanted him to shut the fuck up. His Glock in the boy’s hand warned him not to be too blunt or to make any unnecessary moves. “I’d like to understand what’s going on.” Certain Ben would question him—as he had on every other point—Mike spoke quickly to Jasmine. “Did Desiree see you and Connor together?”

  “Not at first.” Her gaze turned inward. Rain streamed down the panes, creating shadows on her cheek that looked like falling tears. “I met Connor in Miami at a business management seminar. He runs, or rather ran, a financial services business. I was at the conference to get some ideas on operating my sisters’ dress design shop.” Her brows drew together. Renewed shame rose in her eyes. “I didn’t want to lie to you, Mike. I just couldn’t allow them to be involved.” She leaned forward suddenly, her hand on his ankle. “It was my idea to bring you here. I only wanted to do it until I could find Desiree and stop this. When it’s over, promise me you won’t tell the authorities about my sisters. I don’t care about me, but I can’t let anyone hurt Violet and Lily.”

  Too many questions played in his mind. Stop what, exactly? How and when would it be over? “No one will know about them or you.”

  Her hand remained. She lowered her face.

  He could see she didn’t believe him any more than he’d believed her a few minutes ago. The mounting lust he’d seen in her eyes had changed his opinion on one point—no actress could produce the agony he kept witnessing. “You met Connor at a seminar?” he asked, wanting her to talk so he could gain her trust.

  Her hair bobbed over her shoulders with her nod. “I had some questions about one of the presentations. He explained it to me over drinks and got to talking about his job in financial services. I didn’t understand a lot of the jargon he used, but I didn’t let on. I was flattered he would even be speaking to me. Every woman there thought he was so hot. They called him the eight-by-ten glossy, referring to the headshots actors use as they try to get parts. As far as I was concerned, he was better-looking than any actor I’d ever seen. When he asked if I wanted to have dinner when we returned to the Keys, I said yes. I didn’t know about Desiree.”

  “Because he didn’t tell you,” Ben said, then spoke to Mike. “That bastard didn’t do squat to protect Jas. He lied about knowing Desiree. When she started stalking Jas, and we needed to know what he knew about her, he disappeared suddenly. Poof. It’s like he fell off the face of the earth.”

  Mike followed the boy’s flailing arms, the pistol swinging wildly in his hand. “Connor’s missing?”

  Jasmine answered. “Shortly after Desiree saw us at the restaurant for our date, she started to follow me. I figured then that Connor had to know her and they were involved. Why else would she be behaving so irrationally? I called his office to find out what I was dealing with. His secretary said he’d taken a leave of absence. She didn’t go into detail, but it sounded like his departure was unexpected. I got his address and went to his condo. He didn’t answer his door. His neighbors said they hadn’t seen him. I looked for his car in the lot. It wasn’t there. I kept returning at various times during the day, thinking he’d have to return. He didn’t, but Desiree was always nearby, watching me from beneath a tree, the street, or the next building.”

  Mike looked down. Jasmine was twisting the sheet in her hand, her face filled with pain and animal longing. The linen slipped from his navel to his hips as she stripped him slowly, deliberately. He slanted a gaze at Ben to see if the boy noticed. No. The gap in Jasmine’s robe held his attention. “Where’s Desiree now?”

  The sheet moved another inch. “I don’t know. After she cursed me, I tried to find her to explain again that I barely knew Connor. I had no idea he was involved with her. I wasn’t trying to steal him away.”

  With his free hand, Mike held on to the sheet so it wouldn’t fall below his groin. He didn’t want Ben going ballistic at the sight of his cock. “She cursed you?”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “You don’t believe me. How could you? I can barely believe it myself.”

  Mike kept his tone and manner nonjudgmental. “How did she curse you?”

  She released the sheet. Leaning forward, she ran her hand up his calf. “She watched me first. I changed my routine, thinking it would help. It didn’t. No matter when I went out or what route I took, she found me. I got so spooked I decided to stay home for a while, thinking I’d be safe.” Her free hand flew to her head, the heel against her temple, the words wrenched from her.

  “When I went out on the front porch to get the mail, she grabbed my wrist. I hadn’t seen her to the side of the door. Her eyes were wild. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move. What I felt was worse than fear. My sisters and Ben were gone. The neighbors were all inside their houses. The street was empty. No one was around to help me. I tried to explain that she had it all wrong. I wasn’t stealing her guy. He didn’t want me. I wasn’t pretty enough for him. If anything, he asked me out so he could talk about himself. Guys like that use women like me all the time as adoring fans. She wouldn’t listen. She chanted in a language I’ve never heard. I clawed her arm, trying to get away. I shouted for her to leave me alone. She smiled. I know this sounds nuts, but in the same instant, I felt something slice through me, hot and cold at the same time, like being on fire while encased in a block of ice. I started to shake. She let go of my wrist and m
urmured, ‘He is mine.’ As she backed away, she told me I’d want as she did. Like her, I’d never have any peace. I’d know only insatiable lust.”

  It blazed in her eyes now. In a normal world, her intensity and ravings marked her as a lunatic. Mike knew better, in spite of his previous misgivings. From birth, his mother’s mysticism and his telekinesis tied him to a shadow existence. “How long has this been going on?”

  “An eternity.”

  “Five months,” Ben mumbled. “She’s tried everything to get rid of it. Chants. Potions. Self-proclaimed witches. Prayers. Nothing’s worked.”

  Jasmine’s words caught on her hitching breath. “It started slowly at first. For reasons I couldn’t understand, I’d be drawn to guys completely different from Connor, men I would have never chosen in the past. And yet one thing didn’t change. It seemed as if Desiree wanted me to crave men who wouldn’t give me a second look. They preferred someone sexier, prettier, less reserved. It wasn’t like I could pick just anyone. I had to feel a connection with the man or I wouldn’t get even a second’s relief from the yearning.”

  The floor creaked beneath Ben as he shifted his weight. Mike suspected he’d already offered himself to help her out and she’d refused. “The guy on meth that you told me about, was he someone you chose?”

  Ben answered first. “The prick could’ve hurt her. We couldn’t risk that again. We had to control the situation.”

  By bringing him here and keeping him prisoner so he’d be available to relieve her craving. He’d wanted to know why she’d chosen and lured him. The truth didn’t make it any better. She’d felt a connection to him because of the curse. She’d found him attractive for the same reason, the only reason. He told himself he shouldn’t care, but he did. Last night, she’d touched his soul in a way he’d never experienced and so he acted like Super Cock, needing to pleasure her as no man ever had. He wanted her to find him special. He knew now he could have been any of a hundred other men.